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Artful Anticks

Chapter 18: The Miller’s Quest
By Oliver Herford
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HumourPoetry

About This Book

A collection of short, humorous poems and light fables that animate animals, children, and fairies to expose human foibles through playful rhyme and gentle irony. Pieces range from brief narrative verses to comic monologues and a short stage piece, typically concluding with a witty reversal or moral sting. Imagery moves between domestic detail and fanciful incident, and the poems vary in meter and length to keep tone brisk. Overall the work favors whimsical satire, clever wordplay, and anthropomorphic scenarios intended to amuse while lightly admonishing readers about pride, industry, and pretension.

The Miller’s Quest

(A Floury Tale.)

The Princess’ hair hath golden sheen,
 And her cheek is lily-pale;
 But none may look in her eyes, I ween
 And live to tell the tale.
From out the south, and eke the north,
 And from the east and west,
 Full many a gallant knight rides forth
 Upon the fatal quest.
For a cruel spell on the Princess lies
 No mortal can undo
 Till one shall look into her eyes
 And tell their color true.
And some of them swear her eyes are green,
 And some that they are black,
 And many a knight rides forth, I ween,
 But never a one rides back.

For a cruel spell on the Princess lies,
 And whoso will may try
 His fate, and look into her eyes;
 But whoso quails must die.
 * * *
The miller’s son is a dusty youth,
 And dusty curls hath he.
 Quoth he, “I’ll go myself, forsooth,
 And set this Princess free.”
The miller’s son he hath no spear
 Nor sword nor coat-of-mail,
 But an honest heart that knows not fear—
 Heaven grant he may not fail!
The miller’s son at the portal knocks,
 At the Princess’ feet he bends,
 And he tosses aside his floury locks
 And a floury cloud ascends.

The Princess’ face in a mist of white
 Is veiled as with a veil,
 Her eyes are dimmed of their deadly light,
 And the miller doth not quail.

The Princess’ hair hath golden sheen,
 Her cheek is red, red rose,
 And her eyes?
 * * *
Go ask the Prince—
 I mean
 The miller’s son—he knows.